I Remember Everything
by Tango Eight
Summary: How Dean remembers his time as a spirit, his many deaths at the Mystery Spot, and his time in hell. Some things are better left forgotten.
1. Don't Fear the Reaper

**I Remember Everything **

**Part One: In My Time of Dying**

Dean woke up in pain. Not as much pain as he should have been in but enough pain to make this entrance into consciousness suck.

The pain was centralized in his throat and lungs. Some kind of foreign object had been crammed down mouth and throat; he could feel the tape keeping the obtrusion to his face. His confused brain was having a hard time figuring out what this intrusion was and…

What the HELL was a tube doing in his nose?

Dean felt like he was suffocating and choking at the same time.

It was almost like he broke through water, like he had been holding his breath for a long time and was finally allowed to break free from the surface and fill his lungs with precious, vital oxygen.

Immediately he began to gag, the tubes had to be gone, God, it felt like they were killing him.

Dean brought his hands up to his chest where his lungs were burning; every artificial puff of oxygen from the ventilator searing his throat and lungs.

Dean just wanted the damn tubes out.

In the background he could hear a familiar voice; the voice of his brother yelling for help.

"Help, I need help!" God please no! Was Sam hurt, why did he need help? Dean fought against the tubes, he fought against his own body, and he fought the wires keeping his body on the bed with very little mobility.

Sam needed his help, Sam needed help and Dean couldn't do a damn thing about it! He felt helpless, he felt strangled, and then he suddenly felt hands on him; one on his shoulder and one on his face. Trying to keep him grounded, trying to get him to focus. They were failing in their mission.

These hands felt familiar, they felt safe, they were the hands he'd felt checking for fevers or wounds when he was a kid and even now that he was an adult. His job had always been to protect Sammy, ever since he was four years old and his father told him to take his brother and run; his mother burning on the ceiling-the image burned in his mind forever.

His job had always been to protect and take care of Sammy but Sam always did the same. Whenever Dean's body had enough of the abuse he put it through on a daily basis; his father was always working but Sam was always there to protect and take care of him. He fought it tooth and nail, though, he was the big brother and it was his job. He didn't want to be Sam's burden. He only wanted Sam to be a kid longer then he'd been one. He wanted Sam to have a normal childhood, he didn't want Sam to have to worry about him all the time.

Deep down, Dean truly appreciated those small moments when he could let his walls, his guard down. It seemed like it was the only time in their strange, messed up lives that they could forget about the demons and monsters under the bed and just be brothers.

"Dean, look at me! You're safe now, you're in the hospital! Dean, I need you to open your eyes!"

Dean heard his baby brother's voice. The hand on his face had been moved to his head, very gentle pressure keeping it from moving too much and dislodging one of the machines, a move that would without a doubt cause more damage than either of them wanted to deal with at right now.

Dean couldn't refuse anything that voice asked. Whether it was when they were kids and Sam would ask to stay up later, promising Dad would never have to know, or if he was pleading for Dean to stay with him, to stay alive.

Dean's eyelids fluttered as he tried to find his brother among the darkness. When he finally got his eyes open, even the dimmed hospital lights seared straight through his brain. He clenched his eyes closed as he continued to fight against the machines that had been keeping him alive since the accident.

"That's it, come on, Dean, open your eyes!"

Dean wanted to so badly. He never wanted to let Sam down, ever, so he tried again. This time he was able to keep them open. Not so much open, more like tiny slivers only a fraction of their true diameter.

Dean found himself looking straight into Sam's matching green eyes and man did they look relieved to see him awake.

"It's ok, Dean." Sammy told him, "Everything's going to be ok now. The reapers not gonna get ya, now."

Reaper? What the hell happened, anyway? Dean couldn't remember a damn thing.

OoOoOoO

The doctors removed the tubes and checked his injuries which somehow miraculously healed.

The doctors where baffled, Sam was baffled too but way more relieved to hear his brother was no longer on the brink of death.

Dean was just confused. Sam told him that apparently when he was in a coma he'd been walking around as a spirit, there had been a reaper after him and Dean had told Sam himself through a Ouija board.

Dean honestly didn't remember a thing.

All that was left was a pit in his stomach, telling him something was wrong. Subconsciously Sam and Dean both knew it wasn't natural that Dean was awake from his coma completely healed.

It wasn't even an hour later when the doctors where calling time of death on their father.

OoOoOoO

When Dean would dream, he would dream of his brother or father. Sometimes other people from his past would make special guest appearances. The monsters they'd hunted would sometimes drop by too. Dean hated to dream most of the time because it was usually only past memories, and with the life he'd lived he usually just wanted to forget.

Sometimes his dreams were good. Sometimes he would remember the brotherly moments shared between him and Sam, the few father/son moments he had with his Dad, or he would remember his mother the way she'd been before the yellow eyed son of a bitch took her from them.

Tonight, however, Dean was having a completely different kind of dream. A dream of memories he'd forgotten or never even known of to begin with.

Tonight, he was dreaming about a reaper named Tessa, he saw himself wandering the halls without being seen, his body being jolted again and again while all he or Sam could do was stand there and watch. He saw the Ouija board and Sam looking so comforted when Dean was able to reply back. He saw a truck smash into the Impala, he saw a helicopter landing in a field, he saw himself talking to that reaper who'd tried to take him and in that moment he realized how close he'd come to actually going with her. Most importantly, he saw the black smoke filter into the room through a vent in the wall and taking over the reaper. He saw Tessa turn around, her eyes now yellow. It's your lucky day kid and next thing he knew he was being hurdled back into his body and then his father was dead.

Dean woke with a start, siting straight up in some random motel room bed, gasping and covered in sweat.

He'd been thinking it for a while but now there was no doubt in his mind what had really happened to his father.

As he sat in the bed he felt a sudden chill, his breath visible in the air. A familiar voice touched his ear and the voice was so quiet he almost didn't hear it.

"Now, you know everything."

OoOoOoO

**To Be Continued.**

**A/N: That was it for part one of this three part story. One of the things I noticed about Supernatural is that there are some things that happen to Dean that he doesn't remember, at first at least. Like I said this story is going to have three parts, each with Dean remembering what happened to him in different episodes: In My Time of Dying, Mystery Spot, and then his time in hell. Hope you enjoy this story; let me know what you think! Thank you!**

**~Tango**

**Repudiationes****: ****Non****suam****supernaturalem**

**(That was Latin for, Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural! Teehee! Minus the Teehee part of course…) ;)**


	2. Heat of the Moment

**I Remember Everything**

**Part Two: Mystery Spot**

Dean woke before the alarm went off and before his brother.

His sat up in his bed, which was always the one closest to the door, and looked over at a peaceful-looking Sam.

These were the moments Dean treasured. The few calm moments before the alarm blared, flinging them annoyingly into the waking world. The minutes before their day started and they had to go fighting what could kill them. Dean cherished these moments because he always knew one of them might not make it to the next morning.

He got up quietly as to not disturb the peace and went over to his bag. He grabbed some clothing, smelling them first to make sure they weren't too used-smelling, and then proceeded to get dressed.

Dean leaned down and grabbed his boots, walked over to his bed and began pulling them on. He was in the middle of tying the second set of laces when he heard a soft click.

'Heat of the moment…'

He heard Sam startle awake.

Sam sat up letting the bedcovers fall around his waist. He looked at Dean who was starting to get into the music.

"Rising and shine, Sammy!" Dean exclaimed happily.

"Dude, Asia?" Sam asked him, trying to blink the sleep out of his eyes as the music continued to blare.

Dean looked at the usually offending piece of machinery.

"Come on, you love this song and you know it."

"Yeah and if I ever hear it again I'm going to kill myself."

Dean ignored him; instead he reached over and twisted the little round knob on the side of the box a few times increasing the volume of the music.

"What? I'm sorry, I can't hear you."

Dean loved these harmless instants of brotherly banter. It seemed too often in their lives there was nothing but pain, anger, or fear. The playful moments of witty and sarcastic comments exchanged back and forth without any anger or resentment towards each other was refreshing.

Sam smiled and laughed quietly. Dean started getting into the song more, now adding in lip syncing before dancing his way off the bed.

Dean went straight into the bathroom and began brushing his teeth. When he was applying the minty paste to the brush's bristles he took extra care in being absolutely the messiest he could possibly be which involved smearing the white goo all over the tube. Dean knew how much Sam hated it when the tube of toothpaste was messy and he just couldn't help but make it that way.

Sam joined him in the small bathroom once he was dressed. Dean filled a cup of water and took a swig. He tipped his head back and began to gargle when Sam picked up the tube. His face morphed from confusion to disgust as he took in the mess. He looked at Dean who continued to gargle.

Dean noticed Sam looking at him and winked. Sam just rolled his eyes with a sigh. Dean finished with his excessive gargling and spit the water and bubbles into the sink.

Sam brushed his teeth and then walked out of the bathroom. He finished getting ready and then went to stand by the door. He had no idea how Dean could wake up before him but take considerably longer before he was ready to leave.

_He's worse than Jess. _Sam thought to himself with a sad smile.

Dean was looking everywhere for some unknown item of absolute importance apparently.

Sam sighed again as Dean crossed the room for the seventh time. Sam almost laughed at the puzzled look on Dean's face as he sifted through piles of clothes.

"Whenever you're ready, Dean." Dean heard Sam say from the door. Dean looked into the pile of clothes again and was surprised to find a lacy black bra among the jeans and t-shirts. He pulled it out of the pile, hooked by the strap on his finger, and held it up.

He looked at Sam.

"This yours?" Girl jokes were always fun for Dean; he almost tacked on a 'Samantha' but decided that might have been overkill.

Sam gave him his 'what the hell do you think' look that was exclusively reserved for his brother.

"Ha!" Dean exclaimed, dropping the article of female underclothing back into the heap. He rifled through the pile for a few more seconds before finding what he had been looking for. He held up his third most precious possession in the world before tucking it safely into his clothing where nobody would see it and start asking questions they couldn't answer truthfully.

"Now who's ready for some breakfast?" Dean asked as he waltzed past his weirdly tall brother.

The drive was short, small towns usually didn't take up too much gas when you wanted to get around them. They stopped at a small diner in the center of town and got out of the car. Both walked up to the door, Dean pulled the door open and let Sam in first, he followed closely behind.

Dean didn't pay too much attention to what was being said around him as he looked around, trying to find a menu and a booth in that order. They sat down and Dean already had his eyes on the special.

"Hey, Tuesday, pig and a poke." Dean said as he pointed out what he was reading to Sam.

"Do you even know what that is?" Sam asked.

Nope, he could honestly say he didn't but he didn't care. He was all for trying new things.

A waitress walked over to their table toting a pad of paper and a pen ready to take their order.

"You boys ready?" She asked.

"Yes," Dean answered immediately. "I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee."

She nodded, writing Dean's order down on her pad. She looked at Sam.

"Make it two coffees and a short stack."

The waitress jotted that down too, overly exaggerating the period at the end.

"You got it." She said and then was gone.

While the brothers waited for their food they began to discuss the case they were on.

"Where the laws of physics have no meaning?" Dean asked, reading from the brochure for the Brower County Mystery Spot. Dean looked at Sam, who shrugged his shoulders. The stout waitress walked up to their table with a tray balanced on her hand.

"Two coffees black and some hot sauce for the…Hooh!" She exclaimed as the hot sauce fell to the ground with a crash, the glass bottle exploding sending hot sauce flying in rivulets across the floor like cracks in the ice of a frozen pond.

The waitress stood there for a moment staring at the now empty tray still balanced on her upturned hand.

"Ops, crap, sorry." She said looking at Dean with a small, apologetic smile, there was a hint of embarrassment thrown in too.

Dean returned her smile and gave her a small nod. The waitress turned around, "Clean up!" She called out to someone in the kitchen. Dean picked up his coffee and lifted his eye brows, shrugging his shoulders, and took a sip of coffee that was barely room temperature.

The rest of their breakfast was uneventful. An older gentleman in a white apron strode out of the double set of kitchen doors with a yellow mop bucket. He was a taller man so he had to bend over as he maneuvered the mop bucket, sloshing with already dirty water, over to Sam and Dean's table. He didn't even acknowledge the brothers' presence as he cleaned up the hot sauce mess.

The man placed a wet floor sign in front of their table and then took off with his mop back into the kitchen.

Their food arrived shortly after that and they ate in relative silence.

When all the food that was brought to them was consumed and both Sam and Dean were both content with all the diner had to offer, Dean threw a few wadded fives and ones onto the table and they left, the bell hanging from the doorknob acknowledging their departure.

They hadn't made it very far from the diner when they passed a golden retriever tied to a bike rack, as they passed the dog started barking. It was only a small detail, something Dean normally wouldn't even notice but for some reason today he did. For some reason, the dog on the leash seemed important.

"Sam, you know joints like this are only tourist traps." Dean said, grabbing the brochure from his brother's hands. "I mean, balls rolling up hill, furniture nailed to the ceiling, the only _danger_ is to your wallet."

"Ok, look," Sam interrupted, "I'm just saying there are spots in the world where spots open up and swallow people whole. The Bermuda Triangle, uh, the Oregon Vortex…"

"The Brower County Mystery Spot?" Dean asked, skeptical of the authenticity of the whole case, they really should be looking for Bela. But damn, where the hell was she?

"Well, sometimes these places are legit." Sam fought on, he really did believe there was a case he just needed Dean to believe it was too.

"All right," Dean conceded, "if this place is legit, and that's a big ass 'if', what's the lore?"

"Well, the lore…" Sam was interjected in answering Dean's question when a pretty, blond girl in a pink jacket walked into Dean. Dean looked back at her as she continued speed walking down the sidewalk, clutching a stack of papers close to her chest.

"Excuse me." She apologized.

"The lore's pretty friggin' nuts actually," Sam began again; Dean wasn't paying attention to his brother as closely as he should have been as he continued to watch the women walk away.

Sam continued his explanation of the lore, the whole time Dean was still distracted by the fact that the women gave him the same sense of importance that the dog did. He couldn't quite put his finger on the exact feeling, though.

"We'll go tonight and have ourselves a nice long look." Dean said planning on proving to his brother that there was nothing supernatural about the Brower County Mystery Spot.

Several more normality's gave him the same sense of unexplainable importance thought.

Some movers trying to get a big ass desk to fit into an obviously too small door…

"I told you it wouldn't fit." One man told the other.

"What do you want, a Pulitzer?"

And an old man who was driving past the brothers as they went back to their hotel room…

OoOoOoO

Later that night, Dean watched his brother pick the lock to the Mystery Spot.

When Sam pushed the door open, Dean stepped over the threshold and swept the light emanating from his flashlight over the floor and walls.

He found himself standing in a hallway. It was actually brighter in the hallway than Dean had anticipated as the walls were painted a swirl of black and neon green. The swirl got wider as they walked towards the main rooms. Dean had to admit it was a little disorienting but in no way their kind of problem.

Sam took the EMF reader out of his pocket and flicked the little switch so it was on. The only noise that came out of the small machine was dull static.

"Wow, uncanny." Dean said sarcastically as he saw a table on the ceiling. Sam ignored Dean's comment and continued to scan everything.

"Find anything?" Dean asked.

Sam looked over while continuing to scan a chair that was seemingly floating in mid-air.

"No."

"Do you have any idea what you're looking for?"

"Uh…yeah." Sam said, not fooling his older brother at all and Sam knew it.

"No." He admitted.

Dean was looking at a shark head on the wall when he heard, "what the hell are you doin' here?"

Dean spun around, expertly rising his gun, resting his gun arm on the wrist of his flashlight arm. A man with a shotgun stood in front of him, trying to blink around the glare the flashlight was causing.

"Woah, woah!" Dean said, lifting his arms in a defensive, submissive position. He really didn't want to be shot and he _really_ didn't want Sam to be either.

"We can explain."

"You robbin' me?" He asked shifting his target from Dean to Sam. Fear froze Dean's heart right in his chest.

"Nobody's robbing you, calm down." Sam tried to explain.

Dean started to bring his arms down, ready to drop his gun and flashlight if it put this guy's mind at ease.

It didn't work.

The gun was swung around once again so it was pointing at Dean, again.

"Don't move, don't move!"

"Look, I'm just putting the gun down."

Dean didn't know what made the man pull the trigger.

It didn't matter; all that mattered was that Sam wasn't the one who got shot.

Dean felt the buckshot before he heard the crack of the riffle. He felt the pain burn so deep inside his chest it stole his breath away in a pained "ooph" as he fell to the ground.

And then Sam was there. Looking down at him with nothing but fear in his dark green eyes.

He felt strong arms lifting him slightly, supporting his shoulders off the ground. He brought his hand up to Sam's chest, needing the comfort, needing something to hang onto as the life ebbed out of him rather rapidly.

Dean couldn't breathe.

All he could do was lay there in his brother's arms as blood dripped from his chest onto the floor.

"_Call 911…"_

Sam's voice…was Sam hurt?

He wanted so desperately to make sure his brother was all right, but he just couldn't breathe.

The pain was becoming blinding; he could barely even see Sam anymore. He could feel the rumble through Sam's chest as he made vocal his refusal of what had happened.

Dean knew he was dying.

He was supposed to have more time, months even, and now he was dying in some crap-hole tourist trap, bleeding out in his brother's arms. He never, _never, _wanted to have to die in Sam's arms no matter how comforting is was for himself, he never wanted to do that to his baby brother.

He tried to tell Sam he loved him, something they hadn't said to each other in years.

He wanted to tell Sam he was sorry, not for making the deal all those months ago to bring him back, but for the pain he realized Sam was going to be feeling when he was dead and in hell.

It was going to be like the pain felt when they lost their dad, when their dad made deal for him, and when he lost Sam, combined.

He wanted to tell Sam he was sorry he couldn't stick around longer, long enough to come up with a plan for how to save him.

He wanted to say something, anything, to the only person in the whole world he had left, except for Bobby, of course, but it wasn't the same.

He hadn't realized how scared he really was of going to hell until the pain started to fade, his body going numb, his legs disappearing from his body, the oxygen catching in his lungs, faltering with every inhale and exhale, his vision going gray, then rapidly fading to black.

And then all pain was gone, breathing ceased to exist, and Dean Winchester was utterly and truly, dead.

Folded into his brother's strong, desperate embrace as Sam wept for his brother's lost life.

Until…

"Heat of the moment…"

Dean's eyes snapped open at the Sam time Sam's did.

They were both back in the motel room...but…how was that possible? Dean wondered as he tried to sit up.

He couldn't stifle the hiss of pain as the burning sensation plowed into him. He tried to suck in desperately needed oxygen but the pain was too much, too familiar.

Arms were around his shoulders again, but this time they were keeping him steady in a sitting position on a motel room bed.

The arms remained until the pain subsided enough for Dean to open his tightly clenched eyes.

"That's it, just breathe, Dean."

Sam.

Then the whole experience at the Mystery Spot came rushing back in one great wave.

He blinked in confusion looking up into the equally spooked eyes of his brother.

"Dean?" Sam asked quietly. "What the hell just happened?"

Dean couldn't find his voice, the feeling eerily familiar to the memories, or whatever, he'd just been bombarded with.

"I thought I lost you." Sam said sadly.

"I thought you did, too." Dean agreed when he could finally speak, the pain in his lungs and chest now only a dull throb, a nagging reminder of death.

The day went on eerily similar to the one before, or the vision both brothers had shared, or the…whatever…neither Dean nor Sam could explain what had happened.

When Dean was hit by the old man in the car and then died for the second time in Sam's arms, it was certain to both brother's that there was something painfully wrong with the Mystery Spot when they woke up once again in their motel room, Dean in an insurmountable amount of pain but alive.

The ruthless game continued for so many Tuesdays that both brothers lost track. Dean became numb to pain for the most part after about forty-five gruesome death scenes.

When they found out it was the trickster, Dean was surprised to hear why it was all happening.

The trickster was trying to protect him from the pain and torture he was going to endure while in hell.

His trick itself was on Sam, having to watching his brother die every day. The trickster was trying to make Sam realize he couldn't save Dean.

When it finally stopped and the brothers solemnly left their motel room, they both felt numb.

Sam finally realized Dean was going to hell, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

And Dean…Dean hoped that what the trickster did really would help.

The trickster was wrong, though, the pain Dean felt in hell made the pain of those hundred Tuesdays feel like a freaking paper cut.

**The End…of part two…**

All right, there's the end of part two. Stay tuned for part three, the hell part!

I just wanted to thank everyone who has read, reviewed, favorited, or alerted this story! It really means a lot to me!

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural, Dean, or Sam…if I did, neither of the boys would have gone to hell…even though it did provide us with some great whump and angst! So maybe it's a good thing I don't own Supernatural… =D

PLEASE REVIEW!


	3. In the End

**I know…I know…This is TOTALLY cheating but I have a valid excuse! First of all for those who don't know, this is a story I put on by its self as a one-shot. I said that I had another hell story planned for this one. I did too; I had it all ready, edited and everything…yes! I actually proofread! Sadly, my computer crashed taking with it all of my homework, JROTC things, and fan fiction stories (including the next chapter of my NCIS story Something Worth Fighting For!) So I freaked out and tried to rewrite the chapter but…it…sucked! I couldn't do it again! All that hard work-GONE! Ugh… Anyway, I figured I'd spare everyone from the torture (pun intended!) of having to read that garbage but I promised a hell chapter…so…I guess this will have to do. I am soooooo sorry! I can't believe that happened. Anyway, something is better than nothing, right? **

**Hope you enjoy this…again…or for the first time if you haven't read Broken Mirrors Paint the Floor…**

**Please review! Thank you if you already have or if you just read the previous chapters and this one too if you still want to after all of my rambling…my ADD is acting up I think…SQUIRRELL! Hehe…anyway, HAPPY READING!**

**Oh yeah, I almost forgot (usually on purpose), I don't own Supernatural or anything…just the DVD's and a T-shirt that came with the sixth season when I bought it! **

**In the End**

"Let my brother go!" Sam said, struggling to loosen the demon's grip. Nevertheless, he was pinned sound to the wall. This demon was strong and was currently residing inside his brother.

The demon smiled, Dean's lips curving upwards into a seditious grin.

"Nah," The demon said using Dean's voice, "I think I'll have some fun first."

Dean's familiar green eyes turned black. He hand went up, arm parallel to the ground, pointed straight at Sam. Sam suddenly felt his chest constrict. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think, all he could feel were his lungs trying to collapse in on themselves.

The demon dropped Dean's hand.

Sam felt the pressure release and sagged against the invisible restraints keeping him plastered to the wall behind him. He body trying to play catch up to the recent lack of oxygen.

The demon wearing Dean's face laughed. Sam felt a chill run down his spine at the noise. He hadn't realized how eerie, how horrible it was to hear such a familiar sound used by something so evil, something so far from human.

It must have been awful for Dean all those times either their dad or Sam himself was used to torture him. Their dad at the cabin, and Sam at the asylum.

Dean would always brush off the incidents like they were everyday events, like it didn't bother him at all that it was by his own flesh and bloods' hands those evil sons of bitches would use to cause Dean pain, both physically and emotionally. That it was his brother or father's voice telling him he was pathetic or unneeded, that his family didn't want him or didn't love him. His brother's fist pounding the life out of him, or pulling the trigger; his dad's eyes boring into him as his chest was ripped open from the inside out.

"Have you ever wondered why your brother hasn't been possessed until now? Why no demons were ever able to get in?" Sam didn't know. It never even occurred to him that Dean had never had his meat suit jumped by black smoke cramming its way down his throat.

"It's because he's always been the strongest. He's been stronger than you, stronger than your daddy; he's been stronger than everyone all along.

He was the strongest, until he went to hell."

The demon sneered, Sam's blood ran cold.

"Did he ever tell you what he did down there?" The demon asked, walking over until he was mere inches away from Sam's face. Sam looked into his big brothers eyes, hoping to see even a hint of green, a hint of Dean.

They remained black as coal.

"You'd be surprised at what your brothers capable of."

Then Sam saw it, the quickest flash of emerald. Sam saw something in that flash of color. He saw Dean, saw his pain. This demon was causing his brother pain too, by telling Sam things Dean wanted to keep buried deep within his soul.

"Thirty years of torture will do strange things to the soul, cause it to corrode. I bet you didn't know how different time is down there, what was only four months for you was forty years for Dean. Guess Satan wanted to make the suffering that much worse for all the condemned souls. His memories are so dark after all that time, Sam, you couldn't even believe."

Sam didn't want to listen, didn't want to hear this. What he was being told, it wasn't something Dean wanted him to know.

"Alastair tore him apart. He's never been so meticulous with a soul before, except for your daddy's. He had dark plans for your daddy, but he just wouldn't budge so he went with the next best thing. As soon as Dean made that deal at the crossroads, Alastair wanted him all for himself.

Oh, the tortures he put Dean through…he didn't just carve into Dean's body he also got inside his mind. He would change forms, make it look like you, John, or even Mary were the ones hurting him, spilling his blood.

He'd scream, Sam, he'd scream like he's never screamed before as you pulled the razor over his burning flesh. He screamed on that rack until there was nothing left of him.

Until he was merely a pile of skin and bone on the ground at Alastair's feet…"

Sam had to swallow against the bile rising in his throat. He couldn't help it as a lone tear escaped down his cheek. God, he couldn't even fathom what his brother had been through down there.

"The look on his face when he'd be whole again, back on the rack for another round, it was priceless. The pain from the last round was still so clear in his eyes. Alastair would then change into another person Dean loved, and would then start in all over again.

And every day, Alastair would make him the same offer. It still rings in his ears every day, like some crappy song that's stuck in his song forever. He just can't shake it.

'All this pain can stop, Dean. I'll take you off the rack if you put souls on. All you gotta do is take my razor and start the torture.'

He never did, though. Not until he just couldn't take it anymore."

The demon laughed but all Sam could see was the tears that escaped down his brother's cheeks. Sam nearly broke down right there, but he needed to be strong for his brother right now. Dean needed him and Sam wasn't going to let him down.

"Finally he just didn't care anymore. He told Alastair to sign him up and he got off that rack so fast it couldn't have been possible if he were anywhere but the basement. Alastair handed him his bloody razor and Dean accepted it. He didn't even blink when he tore apart his first victim, in fact, he smiled."

Sam looked at the demon in disbelief. Another tear spilled down Dean's face, following the same track as the ones before.

The demon blinked and the blackness went away. Dean's green eyes stared into Sam's, tears filling them to the brim. The demon moved Dean's head so he could whisper into Sam's ear.

"He liked it, Sam." The demon pulled away as another shiver wracked its way through Sam's body.

The demon walked Dean's body a few feet away from where Sam was still pinned. He slowly turned and the black eyes were back.

"Now, wasn't that fun?" And with that Dean's head was flown back as black smoked screamed its way from Dean's body.

Sam watched as the demon flew up the fireplace before the pressure holding him to the wall was released and he fell to his knees with a thud.

Dean's body collapsed, but Sam was there in time to catch him. He held his brother as his Dean came back into himself. He looked up into his Sam's tear filled eyes and couldn't keep the flood gate closed any longer.

Sam held his brother close as the tears spilled, much like his blood had in hell.

"It's ok, Dean. I've got you, everything's gonna be ok." Sam soothed his quaking brother.

He desperately hoped his words were true as he held onto his shattered brother.

He hoped that in the end, everything would be ok.

**THE END**

**Please review!**


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